Journals
by PurpleWonderPower
Summary: Weirdmageddon is finally over, and Dipper has been waiting for the right time to tell Ford about the journals. Ford and Dipper fluff.


**Journals**

Dipper Pines bit his lip as he wavered outside Grunkle Ford's bedroom door, contemplating what he was about to do. In his arms, he clutched his backpack, which contained all three of Ford's journals. Bill had burned them after capturing Ford during Weirdmageddon, but when the triangle had been defeated and his magic had been reversed, the journals had been restored along with the rest of the town. Soos had found them in the forest a while after the apocalypse. Dipper had spent many hours reading through them with fascination, but he knew he had to tell Ford about them eventually. It seemed like the ideal time to tell him, but he was nervous about whether or not he would be cross that Dipper had kept them to himself all this time.

Dipper tapped his foot on the floor, nervously as he stood there. It was probably as good a time as any to do it. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and rapped on the door.

"Grunkle Ford?" he called, pushing open the door and stepping into the room.

Ford was sitting at his desk writing on a piece of paper with a pen, and turned round at the sound of Dipper's voice. "Oh!" he said, his face splitting into a smile, "Dipper!" He put down his pen, pleased to see his nephew.

"I...uh...I wanted to talk to you about something," Dipper said, nervously, closing the door behind him, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Nonsense," said Ford, dismissively, as he stood up from his seat, "You know you can always come and talk to me, Dipper." He sat down on the side of his bed and patted the covers beside him, indicating for Dipper to come and sit with him. "Come sit down."

Dipper hesitated for a moment, before nervously coming over and hoisting himself up onto the bed to sit beside Ford, still holding onto his backpack. "Grunkle Ford..." he said, hesitantly, fingers squeezing his backpack nervously, "I've been meaning to tell you for a while...but...I didn't really know what was the right time." He unzipped his backpack and turned it upside-down, emptying the contents onto the bed. "It's probably about time you knew about these."

Ford's eyes widened in astonishment as the three red books he never thought he would see again slid out onto the duvet cover. "My journals!?"

Dipper explained how Bill had burned them up, but Soos had found them in the wood unharmed and brought them back to the Shack. He explained how he had read them all, and admitted that he had had them for a while but kept it a secret. He even admitted he had read the private pages that Ford had burned or ripped out long ago, which the de-weirding blast had also restored, as well as the pages Ford had written in since returning from the portal. The recall of his journey throughout the multiverse had fascinated him, and he had been secretly chuffed when he had seen what Ford had written about him. At first he'd been disappointed to read that Ford's first impression of him was unimpressive and ordinary, but as he had read through it, he had squeed to find out that Ford considered him a kindred spirit, and a close friend. He had even read the entry about Bill, in which Ford expressed his fear of Dipper no longer looking up to him. That had caused his heart to burst with happiness. Although he wasn't about to tell Ford that, of course. Oh no.

When he finished explaining, Ford showed no signs of anger or disappointment. In fact, it had been ridiculous of Dipper to even think that. "I didn't think I would ever see these journals again in my life," Ford said, tracing over the cover of Journal 1 with his thumb, "Dipper, I can't express my gratitude."

"Really?" asked Dipper, anxiously, "And...you're not angry that I lied about them this whole time?"

"Really," Ford assured him, "These journals mean an awful lot to me. And I appreciate your honesty, too. I'm going to guess that there was some temptation to keep them."

Dipper gave a nervous laugh. "Heh...yeah...maybe a little," he admitted, guiltily.

Ford smiled. He had such a warm, gentle smile; one so soft and loving that Dipper would always smile back. "Hard to believe it's been over thirty years," he said, wistfully, picking up Journal 1 and opening it. "Where did that time go?" Ford shook his head with a smile as he flicked through the pages, although something told Dipper he was speaking to himself as well as his nephew. "You know something, Dipper? Many people have a point in their lives when they think they have all the answers they need. And it's only when you look back after thirty years, that you realize you truly had no idea." He still wore that wistful smile, and Dipper could tell he was thinking about Stan.

"I kinda know what you mean," Dipper admitted, before mentally punching himself. Of course he didn't know that. "I mean, I don't _actually_ know thirty years, I mean, I haven't even been alive for thirty years, I just meant..." He pitifully searched for a better sentence to say. "Before I came to Gravity Falls, I'd never believed in...well...I-I saw a lot of things this summer that I never thought I'd...I mean..." He felt even dumber now that he had said that. How on earth did one summer compare to thirty years? "I-I guess that doesn't really say much after all," he mumbled, "Sorry."

Ford chuckled. "No need to apologize. I know exactly what you mean. And I do have to admit, you made a much better start than I did, Dipper."

Dipper beamed like a star student. "Well, I wouldn't have been able to do it without your journal," he admitted, "I learned a lot from it this summer. And from you. You've been a really amazing teacher to me..." He felt a bit shy about saying that, but he had a feeling Ford needed to hear it.

Ford smiled. "Well, there are some things you can't teach, Dipper. Like bravery." He ruffled Dipper's hair. "And you have plenty of that."

Dipper blushed to hear his idol praise him so highly. "Well, I really mean it!" he said, earnestly, "And—and I still want to be your apprentice! When me and Mabel come back to Gravity Falls for the summer, we can keep going on missions and solving mysteries, and discovering new things, and all that stuff! I can still do that, right?" he asked, anxiously.

"Of course you can, Dipper!" The smile was fixed permanently on Ford's face now. "Why, this summer we've only scraped the surface! Each summer you come back here, I'll teach you so many things, your friends and family won't believe it! You're destined for greatness, Dipper!"

Dipper beamed the widest smile he had ever smiled in his life, and with that, he jumped up from the bed and threw his arms around his uncle! "Just as long as I can learn from you..." he murmured, quietly, squeezing his uncle's neck with his arms.

Ford held him tightly, smiling as he was hugged by his nephew. "Now," he said, smiling, withdrawing the boy from his arms and sitting him comfortably on his knee, "If I know you, Dipper, after having these journals for quite some time, I'd be willing to bet that you have one or two questions you'd like to ask me."

Dipper's face lit up at that! "I thought you'd _never_ ask!" he exclaimed in delight, clapping his hands to his head, before fishing a large roll of paper out of his pocket and unrolling it, "So how did you come up with your classification system for ghosts?" he asked, in an excited whitter, "Did you really once date a siren? What was it like in the dinosaur dimension? How did you find out that zombies have a weakness? Why did you word that one sentence on the gremloblin so weirdly?"

His questions rambled on, excitedly, and it was always Ford's pleasure to answer them. One of the many things he loved about Dipper's personality was that he was always so keen and curious for information, very much like Ford himself. He never seemed to run out of questions to ask and theories to share.

"So, I had this theory about the Zodiac," Dipper said, excitedly, "You know how when we unfroze everyone and you told us all about the Cipher Wheel and the prophecy, we all just _happened_ to have all the right people in the right place?"

"Yes, I believe that's called 'destiny', Dipper," said Ford, with a knowing smile, "I think it was prophesized a long time ago that the occurrence would happen as it did."

"Exactly!" said Dipper, excitedly, "Well, it's kinda like my time travel theory. Mabel and I have travelled back in time twice, and we ended up causing parts of the history we already knew. It had already happened in our future, because it was the past, so it had already happened. And if we tried to change anything that had already happened differently, it never worked, which is probably why it had already happened differently. Like time only has one specific turnout, and any changes that are made by time travellers either already happened in the past, or ended up getting undone, otherwise they would have happened in the past too, and the future would have been different."

"That's an interesting theory," said Ford, approvingly, "Go on."

"Well, you said Gravity Falls is a magnet for weirdness, and that weirdness is drawn here by fate or something," Dipper carried on, "I think the Zodiac might have some kind of 'fate and time magic' involved too. As in, the way things happen, happen because they're meant to happen, and they seem like crazy coincidences, but they're not. Like how you came right out of the portal when Stan activated it. I mean, you travelled to hundreds of different dimensions over the course of thirty years, and the day you returned to the Nightmare Realm just HAPPENED to be the same day Stan reopened the portal? What are the odds of that?"

"Huh..." Ford mused, stroking his chin. That thought hadn't even occurred to him. "I hadn't actually thought about that."

"I think it's cause it was _meant_ to happen!" Dipper said, excitedly, "I think it's like our whole lives were part of the prophecy, and everything we did was according to plan. You said you thought us coming to Gravity Falls was no coincidence. What if the forces of time sort of...conspired to bring everyone together at the right time so that the prophecy would be fulfilled? Like what if our whole lives have been guided by the Zodiac without us even knowing it!?"

The time sped by as the two friends talked together, and the room slowly began to darken as the sun went in. Ford noticed Dipper's eyelids were fluttering, and his posture had slumped. His cheek was propped up on his elbow on Ford's pillow, half-closed eyes sleepily looking at the pages of Journal 3, and he was yawning a great deal. He looked like he was ready to fall asleep right there and then, and given the time, Ford didn't blame him. They had been sitting there talking for ages. The sky was pitch-black and full of twinkling stars.

"Alright, Dipper, it's getting pretty late. I think it might be time you went up to bed."

"No..." Dipper yawned, his eyes drooping as he leant on his elbow, "I can...keep going..." He gave another great yawn, masking it with his hand. "I'm not...that tired."

Ford chuckled. "Nice try, Dipper, but you're not fooling anyone," he said, with a smile, closing his journal, "Let's get you to..." He broke off when he saw that Dipper had already fallen asleep on his pillow. He was breathing softly, and his small hand was closed on Journal 3.

Ford smiled, lovingly. He didn't want to wake his nephew up, so he took off his heavy trench coat and carefully lay it over Dipper to keep him warm. He closed Journal 3 and picked up the other two, getting off the bed and heading back over to his desk. When he sat down and turned through the pages of Journal 3, he was surprised and delighted to find that Dipper had made a new entry since recovering the journals.

When Ford had first looked through Dipper's entries in Journal 3, he had been astounded by what he had seen. His nephew's writing style was so driven and ambitious; so full of hunger for the mystery and adventure that surrounded the supernatural. And as for the discoveries he had made while hunting paranormal creatures, _well!_ They were like nothing Ford had ever seen before. He never would have guessed that putting a gremloblin in darkness would leave it out cold, or that Category 11 ghosts appeared bound to cursed families for their crimes, or that the strength of a gnome army could be overpowered by the force of a simple leaf blower. The boy was a genius, and it filled Ford's heart with pride to have such a remarkable child look up to him the way he did.

_August 25,_ Dipper had written at the top of the page,

_Dipper here! I can't believe I'm holding this book in my hands. I saw Bill burn all 3 journals right in front of me! But this morning, Soos found the journals lying in the woods, unharmed. Apparently, defeating Bill didn't just de-weird the town, it also restored many of the things he destroyed—including the journals._

_But I'm getting ahead of myself again. Let me start over:_

_1) Bill came out of a rip in the sky and took over Gravity Falls._

_2) Bill captured Ford and turned him to gold._

_3) Bill tried to trap Mabel in a mind prison, and blew up Time Baby. (I wonder what ever happened to Blendin...I hope he's OK.)_

_4) The town banded together to save Ford and defeat Bill, and it was McGucket who figured out how. True, his solution to every problem is "Build a giant robot!", but this time he was on OUR side!_

_I don't know if he's gotten saner or crazier after the events of Weirdmageddon, but either way, he's become a bona fide hero—and made the rest of us heroes in the process. No one else could have dreamed up..._

_THE SHACKTRON!_

On the next page below this title was drawn an impressive diagram of the convoluted monobot McGucket and the gang of heroes had built to rescue Ford from the Fearamid, along with several labels and descriptions. Ford had to admit, it was phenomenal. He'd been amazed when Dipper and Mabel had turned up with that robot and taken down Bill and his henchmaniacs with a few deft punches. Fiddleford clearly hadn't lost his mechanical genius in all the years they were apart.

_The robot's fighting style was inspired by Soos's favourite anime, "Neon Crisis Revelations Angry Cute Girl: Annihilation." He kept requesting giving the robot a "Gun-Sword," but we told him that's...not a thing. While Candy and Grenda led the Shacktron into battle, our rescue team parachuted inside the Fearamid and unfroze Ford. He told us that we all had a crucial role to play as part of..._

Ford turned the page, smiling as he recognized the Cipher Wheel.

_The Zodiac!_

_According to Ford, this was a prophecy found painted in the same cave where he originally summoned Bill. Ford had never believed the legend before (apparently he couldn't believe that saving the world involved so much getting along with others), but he thought it was finally worth a try._

_We seemed to have all the right people—amazingly, it even included past enemies, like Pacifica, Gideon and Robbie. (in retrospect, it's pretty good we ended up getting over our grudges with those three.) Unfortunately, Stan could not get over his "big issues" with Ford long enough to join hands, so the whole thing fizzled out and Bill attacked us!_

_We still have no idea what would have happened if we had completed the Zodiac's prophecy! Soos imagines that the Zodiac would have given us all "radness powers". Somehow I doubt that this is what the ancients had in mind._

Ford gave a snicker at Dipper's illustration of a "radness-powered" Soos, labelled "unlikely". He read on.

_In the end, it turned out to be Grunkle Stan who saved us all—by erasing his own mind, with Bill inside. When Mabel and I found out what had happened, I think we were both too shocked to believe it. And luckily, Mabel refused to believe it! After tearfully showing Grunkle Stan her scrapbook, she managed to spark bits of Stan's mind back to life—and began recovering his memory bit by bit!_

_It turns out the memory ray's effects can be undone through exposure to important images and people from your past (in the same way that McGucket began his road to recovery when he saw the tape of himself as a young inventor). The reason Stan recovered so much faster is that we began recovery while the erasure was still fresh—less than an hour after initial contact._

_Still, it's taken about a week of intensive scrapbook therapy to get Stan fully back to himself. While the townsfolk and McGucket helped rebuild the Shack, Ford, Mabel + I have been spending almost every minute with Stan, retelling him his life story, feeding him his favourite foods (toffee peanuts + bacon), playing songs from when he was in high school, and driving him through town to revisit every spot he's ever seen (and every person he's ever swindled.) We've even read his favourite terrible jokes from his joke book to him, and he remembers every punchline._

_Ford's been working at it the hardest. Seeing Stan's memory erased is the only time any of us have ever seen Ford cry. There have been several nights we've found that Ford has fallen asleep on the couch next to Stan, exhausted from a marathon of describing their childhoods together—and from apologizing for his mistakes._

Ford felt his eyes well up a little as he read this part. He had been so choked when he had thought his brother's memories were gone forever. To stand face-to-face with someone he'd known his entire life...only for them to have no idea who he was. It was a feeling like no other; one he would not wish upon his worst enemy, which included Bill. He hoped he would never have to feel that feeling ever again as long as he lived.

Ford's smile began to come back, though, as he saw the drawings of him and Stan as kids, playing with paintbrushes and dressing as explorers hunting down the Jersey Devil. He remembered that adventure all too vividly—the day when Stan had been accused of stealing Filbrick's chain, and he and Ford had ventured out onto the pier and mingled with circus freaks and lighthouse keepers, trying to solve the mystery of the legendary monster, despite the interference of their rivals, those meddlesome blonde twins Dickie and Ascot. It had been one of the most exciting adventures they had ever had as kids.

He kept reading, reaching Dipper's last entry.

_August 27_

_I'll admit, I've been geeking out hard-core the last couple of days over having all 3 journals in my possession. Not only did defeating Bill fix the journals, but it turns out that it also restored pages in here that I never saw before, that I would have killed to know earlier in the summer. The journals even SMELL better. (Slightly less like millipedes!)_

_Part of me wants to keep the journals forever as a birthday gift to myself, but I know I've got to tell Ford about them. They belong to him. I just hope he won't be mad that I've kept them to myself this long. Besides, there's no way I could forget the strange creatures and events we've both written about here. This journal was my guide to someone else's adventure—and now it's time I start my own._

_I've even started my own journal to take back to California. (Do you like the cover?) I told Ford I wouldn't be taking his apprenticeship, and he completely understood. Apparently he's thinking of asking someone else to be his new partner in crime. (And I think we both know someone who's great at crime.)_

_I'll never forget the most amazing summer of my life, or the family and friends who made it that way—and I'll never forget the book that first opened my eyes to the mysteries of the universe._

_This is -M- Dipper Pines, signing off for the final time._

_Dipper Pines_

_(Don't be mad, Grunkle Ford!)_

Ford smiled fondly to himself as he read those last words on the page. He cast a glance over at the small child curled up on his bed, sleeping soundly under his trench coat. A feeling of pride swelled in the pit of his stomach, and he put a hand to his heart, lovingly. Of course he wasn't mad. How could he possibly be mad? Since the moment they had met, Dipper had done nothing but constantly surprise and amaze him with his courage and brilliance, which far exceeded his own at nearly every turn. His intellect and wisdom were stunning beyond comprehension, and his bold, open heart was something Ford wished he had had a long time ago. Dipper truly was an extraordinary child, who had taught Ford so many invaluable life lessons in the time they had met. He was just glad that his attempts to turn him into Ford 2.0 had been short-lived. Looking back at himself now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself if he'd succeeded in shaping the boy the way he had intended at the time.

Turning back to his journal, he turned to the next page, which was blank. He picked up the pen he had been writing with and touched it to the parchment.

_My grandnephew's fears are unfounded,_ he wrote, smiling, _All I feel towards him is love and pride. He is a wiser man at twelve—_

Ford snapped his fingers. He crossed _twelve_ out and wrote _thirteen_ in its place. He'd have to get used to that.

_—than I was at thirty,_ he continued writing, _He has an incredible future ahead of him—one in which he will hopefully avoid repeating my terrible errors._

_Looking back on my lifetime of catastrophic mistakes, I realize one great pattern in all my follies. I thought being a great man meant being alone. Apart from the crowd. I bristled at the idea of sharing my accomplishments with anybody. I shunned my brother for one dumb mistake, and I shunned Fiddleford for having the sense to try and stop me from dooming the world._

_Even when I was given a second chance, I still held others at a distance. If I had been able to widen my circle of trust...if I had believed in the Zodiac's prophecy sooner...we might have gathered everyone together and banished Bill before he was able to strike. I just couldn't get over the idea of myself as the lone hero...and it was Stanley who paid the price._

Ford continued writing, shaking his head to himself sadly as he remembered the events that had torn the two's friendship apart all those years ago. He still couldn't believe he had been so disgustingly selfish as to consider going to West Coast Tech. Abandon his brother and their whole life's pursuit, to go to some fancy college on the other side of the country, leaving Stan behind to scrape barnacles off a taffy shop instead of escaping to pursue the future they had dreamed of together their entire lives. More than anything in the world did Ford wish to make that up to him.

_"Trust No One."_

he wrote,

_What an absurd and paranoid idea. Trust shouldn't be given unconditionally, but it should be given a chance to be earned. There is strength in having the humility to work with and sacrifice for others—a strength I now realize was in my brother all along._

_Stanley Pines was the man who saved the world, not me. I spent so long thinking he was a selfish jerk, and he turned out to be the most selfless man I've ever met in any dimension. If I'm totally honest, I must admit that he's a hero, and I'm...a hero's brother. And I'm OK with that. Thank goodness he is recovering his wonderfully twisted mind. And I vow to spend the rest of my days making things right between us..._

_If only he gives me a chance._

Ford finished writing those last words on the bottom of the page. He put his pen down with a smile. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out an old photo. It was a photo he had saved for a long time, and treasured more than almost anything else. He unfolded the paper and smiled at the picture of the two twelve-year-old boys standing proudly on the beach before their masterpiece that was the Stan O' War. He still remembered the day their mother had taken that photo. Even after Stan had been kicked out of the house, even after he had been pushed through the portal, he had still held onto it. He had denied it for a long time, but deep down he had always known that he missed his brother. Ford put the picture back into his pocket, smiling as he thought of the adventure he had planned for him and Stan. Hopefully soon he would have his whole family back.

A small whine suddenly came from the other side of the room, and Ford looked round in alarm. Dipper was softly whimpering in his sleep, and his face was scrunched up in distress. Droplets of sweat ran down his brow as he squirmed underneath Ford's trench coat. A soft sob escaped his mouth, and he kicked this way and that.

"No—B-Bill, stop! Ma-Mabel! No! I don't...n-no!" His voice cracked with a harsh sob, and tears streamed down from his eyes.

Ford was immediately at his side. "Dipper..." He lightly shook the boy's shoulder, trying to coax him awake as gently as possible. "Dipper, wake up. You're dreaming." Dipper cried out as he jolted awake! For a moment, he didn't know where he was. He seemed to have been ripped from one reality to another in a split second, and he didn't know what was going on. Ford immediately made his movements softer. "Dipper, it's okay. It's me, it's your uncle."

"Wh-wha...G-Grunkle F...Ford...?" Dipper's voice was so weak as he looked up.

"I'm here, Dipper, it's alright." Ford knelt and placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. "Are you OK?"

Dipper looked down at the hand on his shoulder, and then back up at Ford. The next moment, with an astonishing burst of energy, he lunged off the bed and hugged his uncle round the neck, giving choked sobs into his sweater.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh, it's OK," Ford murmured, soothingly, cradling the boy against his chest, gently stroking the back of his head, "It's OK, Dipper. I've got you." The boy was giving hacked sobs, and Ford didn't have to be a genius—despite being one—to know what he had been dreaming about.

"It was Bill..." whispered Dipper, shaking in Ford's hold, "H-he hurt you...all of you...and then he was just...just _laughing_...and...and you a-and Stan, and M-Mabel and...I thought..." A soft sob. "I...I thought he had..." He couldn't finish, and buried his head in Ford's chest, crying.

"It's OK, Dipper." Ford held Dipper tight in his arms, resting his cheek in the boy's hair, almost nuzzling him. "It wasn't real. He's gone now. He won't be able to hurt any of us ever again. You're safe. Your family is all safe. It's OK, Dipper. It's _OK_..."

Dipper took deep shuddering breaths, trying to regain his composure as he hung onto his great uncle for dear life. Ford held him tightly in his arms, shushing him and crooning comforting words to him as he cried. Dipper tried to stop, he really did, but something inside him had just broken down, and he couldn't do anything but cling to Ford and sob. He wanted it to go away. He wanted it to go away _so_ much, but he just couldn't make it.

The sound of Bill's cruel, mocking laughter piercing through his head...

His eye flashing from the image of a pine tree to a shooting star as he counted down to which twin he was going to kill...

The sight of their friends hanging lifelessly in the air like rag dolls, suspended by Bill's magic, transformed with a flash into hanging banners, their faces memorialized forever in their terrified state...

The feeling of hunger, tiredness and desperation in his stomach as he ploughed helplessly through a town of suffering and chaos...couldn't...go...any...further...

Bill Cipher was gone. But he wasn't gone inside of Dipper. He had been so close..._so_ close to destroying everything they held dear. Every one of those moments where Bill had had them at his mercy...that horrible feeling that had stabbed though the pit of Dipper's stomach; to know that there was nothing..._nothing_ they could do to stop him...

Ford's fingers gently combed through Dipper's brown hair, bringing him back to reality. Dipper's tears wetted the wool of Ford's turtleneck as he clung to his great uncle tightly, but as Ford stroked through his hair, whispering soothing words into his ear, he began to slowly calm down a little. His tears began to subside, and his long, shallow breaths became calmer as his uncle held him.

Ford carefully lowered Dipper back onto the bed. He used his hand to gently brush the bangs from Dipper's forehead, before his hand came to rest on his cheek.

"Feel any better?" he asked, softly.

Dipper sniffed and leaned his head into Ford's touch. Tears slipped out of his eyes. Ford used his thumb to wipe them away.

"You were wrong about me, Grunkle Ford." His lip trembled. "I'm not brave."

He felt like such a loser, crying and clinging to his uncle like a five-year-old over something as silly as a bad dream. What did that say about him to his hero? Ford probably thought he was a wimp now. And maybe he was right.

"Dipper—"

"I'm sorry!" Dipper sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes, "I know it's dumb that I still have these nightmares, I just—"

"Ah-ah-ah-ah!" Ford put up a hand, sharply. "Stop."

Dipper obeyed, but kept looking down at the duvet, too ashamed to look Ford in the eye.

"Dipper, look at me," Ford said, in a firm but gentle tone, lifting Dipper's head with his hand. Dipper didn't want to look him in the eyes, but when he did, he didn't see anger or disappointment in them, but sympathy and understanding. "Dipper, I want you to listen to me very carefully," Ford instructed him, removing his hand from Dipper's cheek to replicate the same grip on his shoulder. Dipper didn't say anything, but he kind of wanted Ford's hand back on his cheek. Ford continued. "You _are_ brave. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known in my time. When Bill captured your sister and claimed Gravity Falls for his own, you didn't choose to hide and admit defeat like the rest of the town, did you?"

Dipper hesitated for a moment. "Well...she's my sister. I couldn't just leave her. We're supposed to look out for each other no matter what."

"Exactly." Ford's voice was warm and comforting. "Bill could have destroyed any of us at any moment, but you didn't let that stop you from doing everything you could to get your family back. You suffered through so much and made huge sacrifices to save this town. Tell me, what more could you have possibly done?"

"I don't know."

"The answer is nothing," Ford said, firmly, "Absolutely nothing. You did everything that could possibly be done. Out of all the people in Gravity Falls, you were the one who chose to stand up and fight. It was _your_ strength that led to this town being saved, because you refused to let Bill win and abandon your family to die."

"So...you don't think I'm a wimp?"

"Never could I think that. You went through so much, Dipper. You survived through an entire apocalypse. You even nearly lost your own sibling. And you don't need to tell me how that feels," Ford added, softly, remembering how he had felt when Stan's mind had been erased, "This town is full of people who went through a devastating ordeal these past few days, and that includes your family and friends. Do you think they're all sleeping soundly with no worries or troubles about what could've happened to the people they care about?"

Dipper hesitated. "Well...probably not."

"You don't think they're cowards, do you?"

"No."

"Well there you have it," Ford said, comfortingly, curling his fingers and stroking Dipper's cheek with his thumb, "Everybody has bad dreams, Dipper. It's only human. I'll confess I haven't slept a peaceful night in over thirty years, let alone after recent events."

"You mean you get nightmares too?" Dipper said, in surprise.

"All the time," admitted Ford, with a smile, "I've seen quite a bit in the years I've been alive, Dipper, and believe me when I say those things don't go away easily." He squeezed Dipper's shoulder. "I stand by what I said before. You're astonishingly brave, Dipper. You don't need to prove that to me or anybody else. You fought back even when it seemed impossible, and it's because of your actions that the world is safe. You're a hero, Dipper. And I couldn't be more proud of you."

That was all Dipper needed to throw his arms around Ford's neck and hug his great uncle tightly. He was still sniffing back tears, but this time they were for a whole other reason. "Thank you," he whispered, squeezing Ford's turtleneck in his arms. Deep down, he knew Ford was right. He _was _a hero. He _was _brave. He _was _the fighter who had chosen to stand up to Bill, no matter what the danger. Ford knew it. And he knew it too.

"Alright, that's enough," Ford said with a soft chuckle, placing Dipper back on the bed and smiling. "Do you think you're OK now? Is there anything you need?"

Dipper hesitated, looking down at the blanket. He appeared to be contemplating something. Ford guessed that there was something he wanted but was shy about asking.

"What is it, Dipper? Tell me. I'm not going to judge you."

"Could I...maybe...sleep with you tonight?" Dipper regretted his request the second it came out, but Ford remained unfazed by the question. "I-it's fine, Grunkle Ford, y-you don't have to, if it's too weird," Dipper muttered, blushing embarrassedly.

"I want to, Dipper, it's fine," Ford assured him, as he laid down next to Dipper on the bed, "Besides, I've never been afraid of being weird."

Dipper blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, Dipper."

Ford ran his fingers through Dipper's hair. All inhibition was abandoned as Dipper snuggled closer to Ford: his hero, his protector, his _friend_.

"I love you, Grunkle Ford." Dipper felt the arms around him tighten, and a soft kiss was pressed to his forehead, making him smile wider.

"I love you too, my boy."

Dipper loved it when Ford called him that. Ford had been calling Dipper "my boy" since they first met, and whenever he used that little pet name for his nephew, it had always given Dipper a feeling of overwhelming happiness deep inside. To know that his idol, the brave and courageous Author, whom he had dreamed of meeting all summer and hero-worshipped since the moment they met, cared for him. Dipper may not have been his son, but Ford loved him like he was his own nonetheless. He had nearly lost him during the events of Weirdmageddon, and it had made him realize more than ever quite how much Dipper meant to him. He was more than just his nephew now. He was his boy.

_His boy..._

Dipper closed his eyes, letting those words burn softly in his mind. The relaxing rhythm of Ford's hand brushing across his face made his eyelids get heavier, until he was unable to open them again. He didn't think he had ever felt so safe. Comforted by the steady rise and fall of Ford's chest against him, he began to sink into a drowsy slumber, protected by his uncle's embrace.

Ford continued to stroke Dipper's hair long after the boy fell asleep. He felt his own eyes finally drooping as he held his nephew safe, the sound of his soft breathing the only thing that could be heard in the silent room. Ford stifled a yawn, looking down at the precious child sleeping peacefully in his arms. He held Dipper a little tighter and gave him one last kiss on his forehead, before closing his eyes too. For the first time in over thirty years, Stanford Pines slept well.


End file.
